


Severance: Rise to Fame

by Gaybrand, mechanicalreproductions



Category: DarkHarvest00, EverymanHYRBID, MLAndersen0, Slenderverse - Fandom, TribeTwelve
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 80s, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Attempt at Humor, Drama, Drug Use, Excessive Drinking, Explicit Language, Gen, Multi, POV Multiple, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaybrand/pseuds/Gaybrand, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicalreproductions/pseuds/mechanicalreproductions
Summary: “Severance” is a 1989 indie rock band consisting of Noah “Firebrand” Maxwell (lead guitar), Evan “Habit” Jennings (drums), Kevin “Observer” Haas (bass), Patrick “The Lead Singer” Andersen (vocals), and Milo “Scars” Asher (lyricist/reluctant groupie). Follow their rise to fame through this written rock-umentary on the dynamic group.[This might be an ongoing series? It might not be.]





	1. First Gig (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> [My boyfriend (0firebrand0 on Tumblr) and I came up with this SV Band!AU as a joke, and took it way too far. It's a lot of fun to write, though!]

#### TRACKLIST:

####    


##### Smoke on the Water (Deep Purple)

#####    


##### Breaking the Law (Judas Priest)

#####    


##### Paradise City (Guns N’ Roses)

#####    


##### Catch the Rainbow (Rainbow)

#####    


**No matter what we get out of this,**  
**I know, I know we’ll never forget**  


_“It’s the easiest song,”_ Habit would tell him, _“Any dumbass with two hands could play it. No wonder you’d open with this one. Fuckin’… Smoke on the Water…”_  


But, once he was in the midst of playing the solo, all the (20, 25) eyes on him made him forget their drummer’s taunting. A rush of adrenaline surged through him. He felt like he was playing in a sold-out stadium, instead of the only shitty bar in town that would take them. He was rich, famous, and adored. He could do anything. He could-  
Polite applause interrupted his daydreaming; he almost forgot to keep playing. He glanced between his bandmates as Patrick picked up vocals.  


_“We ended up at the Grand Hotel. It was empty, cold, and bare-”_  


Reality smacked Firebrand over the head with his own guitar, but he’d be damned if he let himself miss a note.  


**Feel as though no one cares if I live or die,**  
**so I might as well begin to put some action in my life.**  


The crowd knew they were in for one of 'those nights'. Another ammatuer cover band pretending they were on fucking MTV. Habit knew they were judging his dramatics, but couldn’t care less. His loud chanting overpowered the rest of the backups. His drumming was faster, more powerful than the original track. His presence was impossible to ignore. He refused to let himself fade into the background, like drummers tended to. He was going to make himself the center of attention.  


As he stood and introduced himself at the beginning of their act, he brushed off the eye-rolls he received. He ignored his bandmates’ wordless pleas for him to sit down and shut up, waving a pair of drumsticks in the air.  


_“And on drums- Mankind’s Bad Habit.”_  


**Rags to riches, or so they say,**  
**You gotta keep pushin’ for the fortune and fame.**  


They could bitch at him all they wanted for his amp being too loud- Observer refused to let his skills go unnoticed. If Habit thought his instrument was unappreciated, he’d have a meltdown if he had to be the bassist. Everyone noticed how Patrick had the perfect voice for glam rock. They noticed Habit's expert rhythm, and Firebrand's guitar skills, worthy of tributing Slash.  


Observer was good, too. He was as good at his bandmates. He’d been playing bass his entire life, but no one cared about the bass player. Did anyone (outside of those with an interest in music) even know what the bass was used for?  


Singing, _“Oh, won’t you please take me home,”_ in time with the lead vocals, was the most visible he felt on stage. He resented his show-stealing friends, but told himself it wouldn't be this way forever. He'd earn the fame he deserved.  


**We believed we'd catch the rainbow.**  
**Ride the wind to the sun.**  
**Sail away on ships of wonder.**  


Patrick had pointedly chosen this song to be their finale. It placed emphasis on the soft, sweet vocals. Even the instrumental was gentle, letting the spotlight fall on his singing. What could he say? He liked to show off, too. Unlike the others, though, he'd never admit his rock n' roll fantasies.  


It was hard to believe they'd formed this band as a joke only a month ago. While the gig wasn't impressive, it was still something. That was more than he'd expected.  


_"Come the dawn, come the dawn, come the dawn, come the dawn..."_  


This time, the audience erupted into applause. Patrick wanted to ask a bandmate to pinch him. He still couldn't believe it.  


#### ENCORE

####    


##### Wasted Years (Iron Maiden)

#####    


**Don't waste your time,**  
**Always searching for those wasted years.**  
**Face up.**  
**Make your stand.**  
**Realize you're living in the golden years.**  


It was a difficult song, for sure. Scars knew his cousin was cursing him for picking Iron Maiden for their encore. In all fairness, none of them actually thought they'd be asked for an encore.  


Watching Severance practice in Habit's basement was nothing compared to seeing them live. They had the energy, charisma, and confidence of any professional rock band. It didn't seem to matter to them that they were performing covers in a run-down bar. It didn't matter that the audience consisted of less than forty people. It didn't matter that they had paid them to be allowed to play. They acted like they were already stars.  


Scars joined in on the applause, cracking a proud grin as he heard a whistle behind him. They might be twenty bucks shorter now, but it was worth it.  



	2. Getting Started (Chapter One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band finally gets a real gig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me and my bf decided to start co-writing this fic so here my chapter! constructive criticism is encouraged an comments are appreciated!

**TRACKLIST:**

**Hotel California (The Eagles)**

**Stone Cold Crazy (Queen)**

**Changes (David Bowie)**

**One Thing Leads To Another (The Fixx)**

“Hey you pansy ass fucks listen to this shit.” HABIT had yelled slamming the door open hopping half the railing to the basement, and throwing himself into his shaggy chair. He had a crumpled flyer of some kind in his fists and an expression rivalling that of a child promised ice cream. 

“What the fuck man.” observer was lounging on the couch, cigarette in his mouth, taking up both seats with his body, no shoes, shorts, and a thick sweater, he'd be kind of cute if he wasn't so obnoxious most of the time. 

“We got a gig.” HABIT exclaimed smugly as if expecting everyone to start singing his praises. 

Patrick raised an eyebrow taking a drink from his can of cheap, nasty ass beer that he refused to share (“when you pay more rent you can drink my beer”) “where'd you get $20 to get us into another bar.” 

“Nah man it's a real fuckin gig.” HABIT crumpled and tossed the flyer at patrick who rolled his eyes having to smooth it out again. “There's this record shop downtown and the owners tryin to drum up more business so to speak. I was in there lookin for some of that white zombie shit i wanted to find that pig heaven thing, i didn't but i overheard him lookin for cheap bands to play on saturday so i did a little advertisin and we got a gig!” 

Firebrand picked at his guitar, sitting in the chair with the broken leg having lost the game of ‘get to the basement first’ (he hadn't had a chance, patrick had kicked his shins and obs was always faster.) “how do we know you're not fuckin with us man.” 

“Well this does look pretty legit,” patrick said scanning the flyer “ at least the fact that this record shop dude is havin some bands play. Whos this guy anyway?”

“Ehh yknow some random burnout i've known him since he was a snotty brat, i don't know how this kid got a fuckin shop to himself but shit man it's a decent place has some good music.” HABIT shrugged lighting a cigarette with his stolen zippo. 

“A little rich of you to call anyone else a burnout,” observer commented, yawning. “But if you're not fucking with us, this'll be good.”

“That's true,” firebrand nodded “anything's better than paying to perform and this'll be good exposure at least to some other places in town.”

“Exactly, that's the spirit Brandy,” HABIT grinned clearly pleased that someone was happy he gotten this worked out. “So i'm relyin on you clowns not to fuck this up for us got it, this could be the ticket.”

“Slow down, Ozzy.” patrick rolled his eyes “I don't think one show in a small town record shop is gonna make us famous, but i agree we should try not to fuck it up so, no showing up shitfaced alright? Talking to both of you. “ he gave HABIT and Firebrand each a look.

“Alright alright but whichever way this goes you owe me a beer or five afterwards,” firebrand bartered while pointing at patrick.

“Ill think about it, “ patrick rolled his eyes again “HABIT?” 

“Fine i won't show up drunk,” HABIT sighed with his hands up in mock surrender “but i could play drunk y'know.”

“We’ll see but not on saturday night.”

 

 **[There she stood in the doorway;  
** I heard the mission bell  
And I was thinking to myself  
'This could be heaven or this could be Hell'  
**Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way  
** There were voices down the corridor,  
I thought I heard them say  
Welcome to the Hotel California]

“Its nearly a fuckin mericle we even made it onstage”, was the only real thought firebrand had besides remembering how to play The Eagles. It seemed that actually playing was the easy part dealing with his ridiculous band mates was the real challenge. Still he was thrilled to be here, at a real show even if the crowd was still pretty small, these people had actually come because they wanted to. Not because it was just what was playing in the nearest bar. He could only hope the next show would begin smoother. Maybe he should have consulted his cousin with this like they had with the first few gigs, it would have been a better idea more than likely.

_“This place is bitchin dude.” patrick chuckled looking around as if amazed. HABIT just snorted_

_“Have ya never seen a fuckin record shop? Where the hell do ya get your albums?”_

_“I just steal yours.” patrick shrugged._

_Firebrand laughed and observer just rolled his eyes sifting through a stack of records, seeming particularly enamored by an album by some band called ‘Nine Inch Nails’._

_“Whatcha got there four eyes?” HABIT leaned over his shoulder, having no sense of personal space. Observer shoved him off his arm._

_“A record. Don't touch me. Or call me that.”_

_“Pfft hardly looks like a record,” HABIT scoffed smirking “looks like some no name garbage to me, nine inch nails.” he shook his head chuckling._

_“HABIT, WE are no name garbage.” patrick reminded him looking over various pop albums._

_“Yeah but still, what are they tryin to be, jesus? Why can't ya like anything good four eyes.” HABIT ruffled his hair despite being shorter than him._

_“Motley crue isn't good asshole.” observer rolled his eyes._

_“You just don't have any taste.” HABIT huffed seemingly offended. “Speakin of music we gotta figure out what to play.”_

_“Oh shit that's what we forgot.” patrick ran his hands through his hair ;looking wide eyed but laughing “oh shit guys we have like ten minutes..”_

_“How about some Queen?” firebrand suggested, trying not to sound too excited.he really wanted a chance to pick a song._

_“Ok fag any other suggestions?” HABIT scoffed._

_“What's wrong with Queen?” patrick crossed his arms defensively._

_“Uh it's shit?”_

_“Well i think it's a great idea” patrick flashed firebrand a smile “ and since i'm in charge were going to do it.”_

_“Excuse me,” HABIT said with a laugh though he was clearly pissed “this band is my idea, since when were you in fuckin charge, just cus you sing don't mean shit you're just a pretty boy face.”_

_“Alright.” observer barked “ were doing it because it's the only solid idea right now, well do stone cold crazy ok? Ok. that's one song we need at least four or five.”_

_HABIT grumbled but didn't argue anymore._

_“Hey guys you made it!” a teenager with long brown hair who smelled like dust and incense interrupted without meaning to, HABIT gave him a huge faux smile._

_“Greg, my main man,” he threw one arm around his shoulder “meet my band, there's Brandy, Patricia over there and four eyes.”_

_“Oh cool you all got dumb stage names.” greg grinned, he seemed stoned._

_“No he's just being an asshole. I'm Observer.” obs huffed cleaning his glasses._

_“Yes hun don't let the makeup fool you, i'm patrick today.” pat reached out and kissed the boys hand. Greg giggled._

_“Cool man, hey do you got a different name?” he asked firebrand who shrugged._

_“I don't give a shit what you call me man.”_

_“Firebrand are you fucking drunk?” patrick glared at him accusingly._

_“No i am not drunk.” firebrand crossed his arms “sure i had like half a joint before we got here but i'm not drunk.”_

_“Oh my god.” observer muttered covering his face with his hands, “we are fucked.”_

_“Obs sweetheart relax, firebrand what the hell.”_

_“ you said no showing up drunk nothin about showing up high and i woulda thrown up of i didn't have somthin man.”_

_Patrick glared but didn't argue anymore. Greg and HABIT looked like they were having the time of their lives._

_“God that's hilarious.” HABIT cackled “ Brandy got chewed out by fuckin patty.”_

_“Hey man, like shut the fuck up, thanks.” firebrand snipped rolling his eyes._

_“Look dipshits were supposed to be up there now let's pick the rest of the songs real quick and go. Christ i'm never gonna be able to come here again.” observer bossed the others around, though he looked anxious. “Probably have to fucking leave town.”_

_“Alright dudes breaks some arms..or uh..legs?” greg looked confused but then just laughed “ i don't even know man have fun though.”_

 

**[Gotta fuckin' get up and run  
** They got the sirens loose  
I run right outta juice  
They're gonna put me in a cell if I can't go to hell  
Lemme go to hell] 

HABIT might not like queen but he had to admit, only to himself, this song was pretty fun to do. He loved being behinds the drums while being in front of people. He loved pretending he'd already made it, though playing like his life depended on it. In a way maybe it did, he had nothing else going for him. 

No family but his band of burnouts, no dreams but that of the spotlight, no name but a title of a human action. This was all he had and maybe he was running from that. 

**[Every time I thought I'd got it made  
** It seemed the taste was not so sweet  
So I turned myself to face me  
But I've never caught a glimpse  
How the others must see the faker  
I'm much too fast to take that test] 

Patrick had suggested this one and since observer had taken charge, HABIT had no choice. He enjoyed making him play as he called it “pansy shit” but the song was almost personal for him. He couldn't put his finger on it but it gave him particular feelings he didn't know what to do with.

That said he felt beautiful on stage, there was only a few small lights and a handful of people standing in the back of the record shop but patrick felt like he was the center of attention. He was in his best clothes, despite them being from the goodwill, and makeup. He felt like a star and he could see himself glitter in the spotlight. 

**[The impression that you sell  
** Passes in and out like a scent  
But the long face that you see comes from living close to your fears  
If this is up then I'm up but you're running out of sight  
You've seen your name on the walls  
And when one little bump leads to shock miss a beat  
You run for cover and there's heat, why don't they] 

Observer felt the stress melt away fretting the bass, he closed his eyes and just let himself play for a few minutes. Sure he wasn't in the spotlight but he was convinced he sounded better than firebrand or HABIT. Even when he sang backup vocals he Was sure he sounded at least almost as good as patrick, most of his talent came from theatrics onstage anyway, though obs was more self conscious of his voice than his playing.

He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he probably was better in the background, were people wouldn't notice certain things. With patrick an firebrand mostly front and center and HABITs huge presence, obs could feel perhaps underappreciated but at least safe. He wanted to reinvent who he was, everyone in this goddamn town knew things he wished they didn't but if he could leave, if he could get out, well he could finally be himself. 

When the song ended, observer kept his eyes closed, imagining that the small applause and whooping was all for him. 

**ENCORE: Here I Go Again (Whitesnake)**

**[I don't know where I'm goin'  
** But I sure know where I've been  
Hanging on the promises in songs of yesterday  
An' I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time] 

“Hey, you guys are alright i was worried you weren't gonna come through but ya did it was fuckin bitchin man.” Greg grinned tossing his long hair behind him and passing HABIT the joint. They were in the store basement after the show, sharing quite a bit of pot and a handful of drinks they had bought for greg. greg as it turned out was pretty young,still a teenager actually, and the shop was technically his dads though he never seemed to be around and greg basically ran it by himself. Meaning evidently that he could do whatever he wanted, such as invite four grown men he didn't know well into his basement for drugs. 

“Hell yeah man hey if you ever need anythin, any other shows or somthin give us a call.” HABIT grinned, he seemed to have changed his mind about greg since the show went so well. That or beacuse of the free pot. 

“Y'know i might know a few people who would be interested in getting you some better shows, especially if you have some of your own songs n shit, and if you have some tracks with original shit i could sell it here, lots of people love local bands.” greg shrugged taking a sip of beer. 

“Dude are you serious?” observer leaned forward excitedly 

“Yeah man you guys are cool i think if you wrote somthin i'd be good enough to try an get out there” greg grinned. 

“See what did i tell ya? This gig was our ticket.” HABIT grinned punching patricks arm. Patrick rolled his eyes but was smiling.

“Well i hate to be a downer so..well see.”

“How about a toast? To sex drugs n rock an roll.” HABIT raised his beer, though only greg followed suit.

“What sex are any of us having?” obs raise an eyebrow.

“Ok fine you loser virgins, to drugs, rock n roll and uh...fuck i don't know free food.” 

“Thats better.” firebrand grinned raising his own, patrick chuckling with his, and obs rolling his eyes and caving only because HABIT wouldn't let it go.

This wouldn't be the first nor the last time this basement would become a haven.

**Author's Note:**

> [Constructive criticism is heavily encouraged. Let me know if you'd like more!]


End file.
